Ora et Amora
by PenPusher4
Summary: AU-ish, mostly after the movie - Silas didn't die, the police lied and held him back to get more information. But now he's back with Aringarosa, both excommunicated, both struggling to build up a new life in a small village in Spain SilasAringarosa


Disclaimer: I don't own DVC otherwise SilasAringarosa would be even more obvious than it already is in my opinion :)

note: the title is latin and means "pray and love", which is a parody of "ora et labora" ("pray and work") which is a phrase often used to describe a monk's lifestyle..fitting isn't it ?

oh and I could use a beta-reader since english is not my mother tongue - which is also the reason why I want no flames

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Chapter 1 : Reunion

"Your Silas is dead"

How often had he repeated that sentence over and over in his mind ?

Apparently not often enough as it still was not sinking in.

Yet the question remained, did he truly wish to believe in this cruel reality ?

Was his being even strong enough to contain the knowledge that his angel had been taken away from him ??

Aringarosa was, for these very reasons, very grateful for the times that a nurse would arrive to give him medicine and thus taking his consciousness and memories - and even if it was just for awhile.

He also considered it highly ironical to be reminded of his past through a man of his past itself.

Wasn't it Fache himself, who so nicely would violently tear open his slowly healing wounds again with every visit he payed.

Thoroughly he would question and thereby remind him of that fateful day, not seeming to feel any remorse in doing so with a neutral mask.

The first time Fache had tried to interview him, they had to finish early, seeing that Aringarosa had tried to stand up and strangle the man.

The next time - and after he had promised to stay in bed - it had ended with Fache leaving the room in a hurry, while the bishop was continuing to insult him loudly in every language he knew of.

The third time was the first time that they were actually able to lead a decent conversation - maybe it was because of all the drugs in Aringarosa's blood.

After that, Fache didn't return for a longer time and once he did, it didn't take Aringarosa long to realize that the policeman was more or less asking the same things over and over again, hoping to get some new answers.

But the bishop had to disappoint him. What use would it be now to hold back information anyway ?

So it occured one day that Fache stepped into his room with an expression on his face that was difficult to decipher.

"What is it this time that I can do for you ? Just some more of the same old questions ?"

Aringarosa asked him, truly tired of it.

For the first time Fache actually showed signs that could be hints of discomfort.

He cleared his throat and looked down for a moment before he spoke.

"To tell the truth I am done with my questions. But I'm sure that you'll have some questions of your own pretty soon."

Before he could ask him what he meant by that, Fache had already turned his back on him and walked over to the door.

Opening the door, he commanded "Get him in".

Not greater could Aringarosa's surprise had been when they rolled in Silas, resting in a portable bed not unlike his own.

The monk looked even paler than usual, also weaker, yet there was no doubt that life was within him.

"Father Aringarosa !"

He cried in disbelief, what came out as an awkward semi-loud whisper.

"Silas..." Aringarosa whispered, declaring right here and now this to be the most blissful moment of his existence.

"Well.. ? No questions ?" Fache interrupted, clearing his throat again.

"How-....why ?" He demanded to know, not really wanting to turn his eyes off of Silas.

"Considering the anomaly of this case we had to take certain measures-"

"Of leaving me in the belief he had died ?!"

"Now, now it was the best way to make sure both of your stories matched indepentedly from each other."

"And now that you know what you need to know you don't see the necessity anymore to keep us seperate, am I correct ?"

"Uh, yes.." Fache responded, trying harder than ever to keep his professional mask up.

"Go." It was a quiet order, but even a quiet one spoken by a weakened man had power when said man pronounced it with the fire of hatred sizzling beneath.

Without a further word spoken everybody left, leaving a bed bound monk and bishop behind.

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Please review, fellow shippers ;) !!!!


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